


Highs and Lows

by Brate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-16
Updated: 2012-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brate/pseuds/Brate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean versus a kitten. [One of Dean's possible deaths from "Mystery Spot." Played more for laughs than angst.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highs and Lows

"Dean?" Sam called.

Two seconds. He'd turned away for two seconds and Dean was nowhere to be seen. Sam glanced madly from side to side down the residential street, hoping for a glimpse of his brother, but it was as if he'd disappeared.

"Dean!" Sam yelled at full volume. 

"Keep your shirt on, I'll be with you in a minute."

Sam whipped around. Still no Dean. Then he felt something bounce off the top of his head. He looked up. 

Dean waved from the roof of a house.

For a long moment, all Sam could do was stare. What the hell was Dean doing on the roof of a house? Then he heard a tiny _meow_ coming from the direction Dean was heading. 

Sam's heart began to beat faster. "Dean, get down here right now."

Dean must've noticed something in his tone. "I'm not gonna fall. Two minutes, dude. K?" He crouched over and moved toward a fluffy ball of white fur. 

Sam watched, sucking in a quick breath when Dean's boot skidded on the shingles. 

Dean flashed a grin and a thumbs-up once he regained his balance.

Growling, Sam's eyes tracked his brother's every move. Dean bent down and snatched up the kitten, lifting it up in triumph before disappearing around the corner of the house.

Sam burst from his stupor with an "Oh, my God!" and ran to follow. He was terrified of what might happen, but he still couldn't _not_ watch. He realized the idiotic picture he made trailing along Dean's path with his hands slightly raised, as if he could catch his brother if he fell. 

Dean stuck his head over the gutter and laughed. "Sam, I'm not a Wallenda, and you're not a net." 

"Please, just be careful."

Dean rolled his eyes, but he slowed his steps, taking exaggerated care. 

Sam held his breath every inch of the way as Dean climbed monkey-like down the side of the house. He jumped the last few feet, landing with a thud on the ground. He gently pried sharp claws from the front of his shirt and handed the quivering body over to the little girl waiting just as anxiously as Sam, but for a different reason.

The girl smiled widely and gave her thanks as she ran away with her treasure. Sam tried not to hate her for putting his brother in danger.

With a strut, Dean walked toward Sam. As he got near, he stopped and turned a full three-sixty. "See, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you to say," Sam mumbled. He was on day forty-two, and the ending to every one of the previous days was forever etched in his brain. He knew he was acting ridiculous, but he thought he might be going a little mad as well. 

Dean shrugged, shook his head, and slapped Sam on the back. "Let's get some lunch, my treat. I saw a special for fish tacos at Al's Pancake House."

"No!" Sam admitted he might've said that a bit too loud when he saw Dean flinch. "Let's just have some chicken soup." 

Dean raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He waved goodbye to the little girl as he headed toward the main drag of the town. 

Cutting in front of him, Sam held Dean back with a raised arm, making sure to vigilantly look both ways for cars before stepping off the sidewalk. Dean sighed in frustration, but Sam ignored it. If it could keep his brother alive, Sam would encase him in bubble-wrap. 

Actually, he wouldn't do _that_ again. Suffocation by air-filled plastic had not been a particularly pleasant way to go. Or to witness. 

From behind him, Sam heard a scuff and turned just in time to see Dean's head connect with the pavement as he tripped and fell coming off the curb. 

Again, Sam could just stare as the blood flowed out of his unmoving brother onto the pavement. The girl with the kitten started to shriek. But Sam didn't spare her a glance. He knew she was traumatized now, but once the day reset, she wouldn't remember a thing. 

Please God let it reset. 

He knelt down beside Dean and turned him over, pulling him into his arms. He didn't even try to get him to wake up; he knew there was no hope.

How the hell could Dean have climbed a roof, gotten down safely, then died walking off a curb? Sam swallowed an inappropriate bark of laughter. If he started laughing, he wouldn't stop until he heard Asia belting out their signature tune. Possibly not even then.

Maybe there was no way out of this cycle. But he wouldn't stop trying.

Tomorrow he was duct-taping his brother to a chair for the day.


End file.
